


The Walking Dread(locs)

by punishers



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, babie, but rick said nigger once, carl is a moody teen, michonne is afraid that this white man is gonna fuck up her hair, rick is babie, so he knows what he's doing, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:57:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punishers/pseuds/punishers
Summary: Carl wants a girlfriend, Rick wants to be helpful, and Michonne wants to apologise.
Relationships: Enid/Carl Grimes, Rick Grimes/Michonne
Kudos: 25





	The Walking Dread(locs)

**Author's Note:**

> expect more twd content from me. MAJOR spoilers from seasons 8 and 9.
> 
> i made a tumblr @/mcubernthal. follow me on twitter @/bernthalbitch.
> 
> (are u noticing a pattern sksksk stan jon bernthal)

The sound of running water is one of Rick’s favorites. Not a stream or flowing river, but the sound of the tap or the shower as water spurts out of the faucet and pads onto whatever surface rests beneath it.

That sounds stupid, he knows, but it’s true. It’s domestic. Steady. It drowns out the sounds of whatever’s happening outside. It makes Alexandria feel like a real home. From his spot on the couch, Rick can hear the shower running across the hall in the bathroom. Michonne’s been in there for a while, and he can imagine her tip toeing around the water so as not to get her hair wet. The thought alone is enough to make him smile, running a hand down his face. His fingers stop along the rough beard that covers his cheeks and chin. It’s long enough for him to stroke contemplatively now, although Carl would probably have very choice words for his father if that ever happened. 

Speaking of the devil, the teen walks into the room, bandages in his hand to use for his eye. “So I’ve been thinking,” he starts, setting the wraps down on the table and trading them for a rubber band that he can use to tie his hair back momentarily, “I wonder where I could find an eyepatch.” 

Rick snorts, looking up at his son in disbelief. “An eyepatch?” He repeats, skepticism clear in his voice. 

Carl doesn’t seem to notice (or care); he wraps the bandage around his head and over his eye with the finesse of someone who’s been doing it for a while (he has). “Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to change an eyepatch every day. And it wouldn’t cover up my whole face like this does.” 

Eyepatches remind Rick of the Governor, and that’s probably the last person he wants to have on his mind right now. He doesn’t speak, but his face seems to relay that message to his son. He has a knack for using facial expressions to communicate full ideas. Carl gets the point, sighing as he takes his hair down, ruffling it up a bit. “Just thinking out loud.” 

Rick shrugs, hearing the shower stop running. “Y’ain’t ever said anything about an eyepatch till now,” he observes. “Why’s it important to you?” The younger of the two doesn’t respond, his face growing red. Is he blushing? That makes it pretty obvious. “What, Enid?”

Carl groans, moving quickly toward the door. “I gotta go,” he says, rushing to grab his gun off the mantle and get the hell out of there. Once the door shuts behind him, Rick lets out a full laugh. But, shit, it’s good for Carl to be around girls his age. Last time there was someone like that in the group was… fuck, it had to have been Sophia. And God knows how that turned out. Regardless, Rick is glad Carl has someone to spend his time with. The world’s different, but some things never change. Kids always have to grow up. 

Michonne leaves the bathroom in a tank top and jeans, her hair still up in a messy bun. She smiles at Rick, walking past him and heading straight for the kitchen. “Did Carl leave?” 

“Just now,” Rick answers. “Judith’s asleep.” 

Michonne doesn’t respond, but she leaves the kitchen with a knife, a lemon, a jar of honey, and a bowl. By now, Rick knows what this means. He watches as she cuts the fruit, squeezing the juice into the bowl and adding honey from the jar. “You know, you gon’ have to teach me how to do that one day.” 

The woman narrows her eyes, full lips curving up into a confused smile. “Do what?”

Rick gestures to the bowl, taking it and swirling his finger in the mixture the way he’s seen her do it before. “Twist your hair. I could help you, y’know, so you don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

Michonne laughs softly, one of those ‘this white boy drives me fucking crazy’ kind of laughs. She pulls one of her locs from her ponytail, covers her fingertips with the honey mixture, and spreads it over the root of her loc. “No, you don’t have to do that.” She rolls it roughly between her palms. It’s like using a stick to start a fire, Rick notices. Yeah, he can do that. Simple. He gets off the couch, sitting behind her and dipping his hand in the bowl. 

“So what do I do with…” Rick trails off, his fingers catching on new growth that isn’t in a loc.

“Just use the honey to stick it on the dread it’s by. And then roll it like I’m doing.” Michonne finishes one and moves on to the next. “And you better not pull too hard, either.”

They fall silent as they get to work on her hair, and Michonne finds herself impressed by how few times he fucks up. After a while, Rick speaks up. “You think we’d be able to find an eyepatch somewhere ‘round here?”

Michonne turns toward him, just long enough for him to see her scrunched up nose, then turns back around. “What, you gonna do a Governor cosplay?” Her tone lacks humor; she sounds disgusted. 

Rick puts her at ease. “It’s for Carl. He doesn’t like the way he looks with that bandage over his face.”

The dreadhead snorts, starting on another loc. “Since when does that boy care about how he looks?”

“Since there’s a girl around who might care,” Rick answers, a hint of excitement in his tone. “It might be good for him.”

Michonne shakes her head. “If she likes him, she’ll like him with that bandage on his eye. I don’t want my son changing himself for anyone, let alone some stupid girl…” She trails off, only hearing her own words after she’d spoken them. “Shit, I didn’t mean that.”

Rick drops the loc in his hand, his gaze fixed somewhere far away as he shakes his head. “No, I - I know what you meant-”

“No,” Michonne says firmly, turning completely to face Rick. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

The man is quiet for a moment, a thumb and forefinger coming up to rest at the corners of his mouth. His hand drops down to his lap as his eyes meet Michonne’s. “We’re a family.” The woman opens her mouth to respond, but Rick shakes his head again. “We’re a family, Michonne.” They sit in the moment, not quite sure what just happened, but not ready for it to end. Rick doesn’t know what marriage looks like in this world - with Glenn and Maggie it was one conversation. Rick can’t tell if that’s the one he just had with Michonne, and he doesn’t care to think about it either. She finally nods, turning around and working on her hair again. 

They don’t ever talk about what was said that day. There’s no reason to. Because after everything - after Carl dies and after Rick dies, after RJ is born and after Judith grows into her own person, Michonne knows that it’s true. The Grimes family is just that: a family. 

And they’re not going anywhere.


End file.
